Enrique couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back staring at the ceiling, replaying the night over and over again until the images blurred into something grotesque behind his eyes. Gloria’s face, wrapped in cloth, her silver eyes dull with pain she refused to voice. She’d tried to brush him off. She always seemed to stand smaller than she really was, shrinking into the darkness.
Except it didn’t feel genuine. It did not feel like her. In his eyes, she was royalty. The best of them all. Her being a servant felt like a role she was trying to fit in.
Sometimes, she spoke and acted like she was so much more. One minute she was fearless. The next, timid and shy, hiding away for the world not to see or notice.
It haunted him.
How could he have missed it? When she’d lied straight to his face, he ha
